The humid heat has push me to the ground
The buzzing of the bee the only sounds
The Cleveland hills are covered in wildflowers
Where we used to lie for many hours
Now I’m in the south but I recall
How the world was made before the Fall
The conscious mind’s a cancer in its way
Serviced by the will, it cannot plays
God is not a power he is alive
Children on the seashore never strive
How my heart sings 